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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27843691">Variables</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intonerthree/pseuds/Intonerthree'>Intonerthree</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Berumin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Slice of Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:21:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27843691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intonerthree/pseuds/Intonerthree</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin Arlert, a 24yr old living with his 26yr old roommate, Bertholdt Hoover. Armin has been trying, and failing for quite some time now at ending up with someone, Bertholdt seems to be just fine coasting through life. What on earth could the universe have in store for these two idiots?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Armin Arlert &amp; Bertolt Hoover, Armin Arlert/Bertolt Hoover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Old Friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the first chapter of many, but with the series being so close to completion I doubt this will get many views. Regardless, I can't tell you how appreciative I am and that there are people who see how happy these two have the potential of being together.  </p><p>A MASSIVE FUCKING THANK YOU TO <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivianLynx">Eli</a> this would be such a mess without her brilliant beta-reading, thank you thank you thank you!!!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A cold walk home and a home-cooked meal</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was perfect, to be out so very late into the night now, any functioning adult would be long asleep by now, which meant the male could suffer happily in silence. Armin sniffled both from the cold and the tears he had been silently shedding as he had walked for what felt like forever just to make it back to his apartment complex. The walk had done him some good, he’d tell himself, public transit didn’t run this late at night and he <em> certainly </em>didn’t want to find himself crying in the back of some poor Uber driver’s car. </p><p>Another date gone <em> horribly </em> awry, another one for the record books, Armin assumed. It had started out perfect, actually — they had gone to a movie the blond had been dying to see, despite movies being bad first-date ideas. He didn’t care, they both enjoyed the film and talked about it the whole way to the other man’s house. Everything was going great, they had even kissed a couple of times. But, of course, then they got to his place and Armin’s eyes instantly homed in on all the walls, his superpower for finding unhappiness kicking in, spotting the pictures of the man with a family, a partner. The blond felt his stomach twist into ugly knots. </p><p>“What is all this?!” He remembered almost shouting, he remembered the way he almost choked on his words when he felt a knot form in his throat. He had always been an angry crier. </p><p>“We have an understanding.” The blond remembered his date calmly placate him with promises of it being consensual. He didn’t care, didn’t know if he was even being fed the truth, he felt horrid. The only thing Armin understood was that he wanted no part of it. And so he left. </p><p>Armin could feel his hands tremble and shake as he struggled to fit the key into the slot of his front door — all of a sudden dropping it when his hands twitched abruptly, wincing at the clinking it produced as soon as it reached his ears, his senses still sensitive from the stress-induced headache that made his temples throb painfully. Cold and sad certainly didn’t mix. Or maybe they mixed too well. Either way, the blond bent down to pick up his house key and did his best to pull it together before his mind really started waxing poetry about his feelings and the fucking weather, for that matter. </p><p>He sighed as soon as he entered the comforting warmth of his shared home, shrugging off his vest and cardigan before pulling off his light-blue scarf and hanging them all on the nearby coat rack. Armin’s eyes stayed on the fixture after doing so, looking, almost admiring the way his clothes looked hung up next to the charcoal peacoat that belonged to his roommate — Bertholdt. They had met in college where they were both living in the same dorm, the two had gotten along well and had become fast friends — they both looked after each other, especially when the other was sick. The duo always found themselves hanging out with one another, it seemed only fitting that the two would end up getting a place together given their mutual comfort with each other. </p><p>That, and the fact that their career paths didn’t seem to split apart. They were lucky when they stumbled upon this particular apartment. It was a modest three-bedroom, one bath and at an affordable price. When they had initially moved in, Bertholdt had brought up what they would make of the guest room — neither of them wanted another roommate to deal with and then it dawned on Armin — and he quickly suggested they just turn it into a private office for Bertholdt. The startled, shy look on the taller male was <em> priceless </em>, Armin had only wished he had been able to capture his expression with a picture. </p><p>Sure, Bertholdt tried to refuse the offer mind you, but Armin wasn’t having it, he insisted that Bertholdt’s work required far more space than what he did, which Bertholdt then tried to compromise by offering to pay more in rent, only to have Armin quickly shut it down… The two then proceeded to get into the most embarrassing argument in their lives, but thankfully, the taller man ultimately acquiesced to his offer. </p><p>Their location wasn’t bad either. It was the nicer part of the city with a coffee shop close by and a grocery store to boot. <em> Like the brother he never had, </em> Bertholdt had once remarked casually. The blond didn’t have the heart to admit to him how much he had detested that sentiment, so he had just smiled and laughed in the moment. </p><p>Armin reached out his hand, placing it on the arm of the coat, sliding it down until it reached the end of the sleeve, his mind clearly picturing the owner’s hand there, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like if that hand were interlocked with his own. As soon as that thought entered his head, his brain very quickly made sure to shoot it down, whether this was to cruelly remind him that such things were completely ludicrous or if it was a way to protect him from the waves of loneliness that would surely follow was unbeknownst to him.</p><p>It wasn’t until he strolled into the kitchen and opened the fridge, ready to settle for whatever scraps of food he could scavenge, that his eyes landed on the carefully covered bento-style Tupperware that sat inside with a little green sticky note on it, reading:</p><p>
  <em> ‘Armin, I wasn’t sure if you were coming home tonight but I accidentally made too much lasagna and thought maybe you’d like some ^^; - Bertholdt’  </em>
</p><p><em> Now </em>Armin could feel the corners of his lips rise in a smile at the sight of the note, this tiny little scrap of paper and a home-cooked meal serving to instantly be the perfect remedy to what was probably the worst date in his life thus far. He reached for it, grabbing the tiny sticky note, placing it on the counter while putting the Tupperware in the microwave. With his food heating up, he rummaged the drawer before finally finding a pen and scribbling under Bertholdt’s writing; </p><p>
  <em>‘Thank you so much! A hero! :D’ </em>
</p><p>He took a step back, smiling at the note, then grimacing when he saw his chicken-scratch next to Bertholdt’s handwriting. <em> ‘Ah, whatever.’ </em>He thought to himself before his eyes widened as he remembered his food — it was down to the last three seconds. Armin bolted over, his finger hitting ‘STOP’ just as it reached its final second, sighing in relief over having prevented the alarm from blaring. Why they hadn’t invented mute buttons on the damn things was beyond him. The last thing he wanted was to wake his roommate. Granted, both of them had the luxury of working from home, thus being able to work their own hours. </p><p>Bertholdt worked as a children’s book illustrator — authors would send in their books and it’d be his job to draw and apply color to the scenes. It was Bertholdt’s drawings that often never failed to make the blond smile or laugh. He even had one of his illustrations as a wallpaper on his phone’s home screen, much to the other’s embarrassment. </p><p>Armin himself did freelance work as a graphic designer, which involved creating and editing logos, menus, signs, etc. for clients. Sure, it wasn’t as exciting or ‘cute’ as Bertholdt’s career, but it was what he liked, and it allotted him the free time to keep up with hobbies or pursuing fruitless endeavors at trying to find love. </p><p>He shook his head before letting his brain delve into where that line of thinking was going. Armin reached for his food, wincing in pain as his fingers burned from how hot the plastic had gotten, as he walked over, scalding tupperware in one hand, fork in the other, and sat at the dinner table, he silently prayed that his food was just as hot as its container. He looked down at his food, the grated parmesan cheese melted into all the decadent layers of pasta. Bertholdt <em> always </em>did manage to make the most appetizing food. Armin slowly dug his fork in, cutting off a tiny piece, relieved to see the steam emanating from the portion — gingerly blowing on it before taking a bite. </p><p>“Oh <em>holy </em>shit,” Armin instantaneously said as he held his cheek with his left hand, absolutely savoring the delicious taste of the lasagna and how the warmth seemed to fill and spread out through his entire body inside-out as he swallowed. Honestly, if Bertholdt ever got sick of his job, he could very easily just resort to becoming a chef. Though, he could practically hear the tall man’s voice in his head at that remark — <em>‘It’s just a hobby,’ </em>He’d say with a blush on his cheeks Armin couldn’t help but gaze at fondly, and the blond would only nod in response, never being able to understand how effortlessly talented Bertholdt was at… well, Everything!</p><p>He made quick work of the remainder of his food, sighing softly at the pleasant fullness in his belly, then proceeded to collect the now-empty container, taking it to the sink and making sure to wash it upon noticing the emptiness of it and the fullness of the dish rack, turning off the lights as he left the kitchen. The rest of his time was spent preparing for bed, changing out of his clothes into a pair of sweatpants from college and a simple shirt, then washing his face and brushing his teeth. As he walked out of the bathroom he stopped just outside of his roommate’s door that he had to pass before getting to his room. Armin stood there for a minute, simply staring at the door, he reached out and placed a hand on its surface, “Goodnight.” He softly whispered, yet again finding himself pretending.</p><p>Armin shut the door to his room as quietly as possible before crawling under the sheets of his bed. He had read somewhere that the more pillows one slept with, the lonelier it meant that person was. He had five. The blond sighed to himself, now annoyed that his brain decided to remind him of that dumb little article, before shutting his eyes and angrily hugging the pillow on his right and closing his eyes, wanting nothing more than to be dead to the world for the next seven-ish hours. </p><p>—</p><p>The next morning Armin awoke to the sounds of plates clattering here and there followed by the occasional shutting of a cabinet or drawer. The blond stretched groggily, letting out a yawn to go with it. It sounded like Bertholdt had gotten up before he did. Armin should really go thank him in person for his generosity, it had served as the perfect way to mend such a terrible night. He got up and quickly headed out and towards the kitchen, blinking when he caught sight of the black-haired man. Armin couldn’t help but take note of his lack of sleep attire. He was already dressed, his outfit consisting of khakis, and a simple short-sleeved button-up. <em> He </em>was clearly already ready to tackle the day. Bertholdt always was so put together that the shorter male couldn't help but feel left behind, somehow, even at something so insignificant. Bertholdt currently stood at the kitchen counter, smiling tenderly at the sticky note he held in his hand. </p><p>“Oh, um, good morning, Bertholdt.” Armin greeted meekly.</p><p>Bertholdt visibly jumped at the sound of Armin’s voice, clearly having startled him from whatever deep thoughts he was contemplating. He turned and faced the blond before hurriedly crumpling the note and shoving it deep into his pocket. “Oh! Hello, I guess I didn’t hear you come in, hehe,” He scratched the back of his head, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, “I really hope I didn’t wake you or anything.” He responded almost mirroring his bashfulness, something that <em> commonly </em>occurred between the two. </p><p>“O—Oh! Not at all!” Armin quickly replied, raising his hands in order to ease worry. “I was already awake and then I heard you in the kitchen.” </p><p>The taller man nodded with a smile, “You had a date, right? When did you get back, I didn’t even hear you come in last night,” he added with a raise to his eyebrow, as if trying to recall.</p><p>“Ehh… Around three in the morning, I think? I didn’t really pay attention to what time it was.” </p><p>Bertholdt blinked before his face adopted a look of alarm, his eyebrows now scrunching and the feeling of worry flashing clear in his kind pale-green eyes. Along with the worry, however, was also the faintest trace of anger, protectiveness perhaps? The blond couldn’t tell.  “Three in the—! What happened? Is everything okay?”</p><p>Armin on instinct pulled the biggest, most convincing grin he had in his arsenal, “Oh the date was excellent actually, I had so much fun!” A lie. “I just didn’t feel like staying over, I’d hate to take a shower only to step into my same dirty clothes, y’know?” Lie, lie, lie. It was okay though, right? The truth would only cause pain so, morally speaking, Armin wasn’t in the wrong here.</p><p>  Bertholdt took a step closer before placing a hand on the smaller male’s shoulder. It was something Armin was used to, Bertholdt always got touchy in his own way whenever he was worried for the well-being, emotional or otherwise, of someone close to him. It was a means to show that he was there, something he always communicated with small displays of affection — a hand over one of Armin’s, the rubbing of small circles to his back, or sometimes, when the blond was especially depressed, he’d even pull him into what was probably the warmest embrace Armin’s touch-starved self ever received. </p><p>A tiny, disgusting, self-centered part of Armin hoped he was the only one he did this with but his brain very instantaneously chose to remind him of the two individuals that easily stood above him. The two friends whom Bertholdt had known longer than he’d known Armin, he meant, of course: Reiner and Annie. Bertholdt had met those two all the way back in his high school years and even now still stayed in touch. However, (thankfully) their individual career paths had branched out in different directions, and while they lived in the area, the two blonds barely had time to see their black-haired friend. Armin hadn’t personally met the two, he’d be too afraid to. He’d be mortified of being next to them only for Bertholdt to see just how dull he was in comparison, because they sounded… well, legendary! He only knew of them through his roommate’s stories and the pictures he had of them in two or three picture frames in his room and office. Come to think of it, an awful lot of Bertholdt’s friends had blond hair, was this reverse-Goldilocks situation just coincidence or did Bertholdt have a preference…?</p><p>“Armin…” </p><p>He blinked, pulling him from his contemplations, his full attention now back and completely on Bertholdt. “I, uh, yes?”</p><p>“You know, you can always talk to me if there’s something you’re going through, okay?” The alarm and anger had dissipated, now replaced with softer things: concern and worry. Armin felt his stomach churn with guilt. He didn’t deserve such kindness, didn't deserve an empathetic ear to listen to him, didn’t deserve a ‘good person’ like Bertholdt. Especially when he had given nothing but dishonesty, the phrase ‘bad person’ kept bouncing around in his head ad nauseam. Why was he feeling so frustrated? Surely not because of harmless white lies, even he wasn’t that melodramatic. No… The blond was smart enough to deduce what the core of his issue was, but right now wasn’t the time or place to get into it. </p><p>He smiled, a smaller smile but still with the same level of deceit. “I do, thank you.” The blond let out a laugh, he needed to switch topics. “Have you even eaten breakfast?” </p><p>Green eyes blinked, his hand retreating from the other’s shoulder, “Oh, no I suppose I haven’t,” He chuckled, “I was planning on it after I got dressed, but then I started putting up the dishes and then I saw your note and, well, here we are! I’ll get the water going!” He finished before going over the electric kettle, making sure it was filled before turning it on. </p><p>Armin nodded, now wearing a true smile, “I’ll get the mugs ready then!” He went to the cupboard, retrieving his and his roommate’s mugs. This was somewhat of a ritual slash unspoken rule the two had: if they were both up and both hadn’t had breakfast yet, they’d have it together. The blond reached over, grabbing two spoons and placing one in his mug, decorated with Van Gogh’s Starry Night, and the other in Bertholdt’s, which had an Azulejos design to it, blue as the base color with a tight, condensed pattern consisting of geometric lines. He dropped a spoonful of instant coffee into both and then — and he had memorized this — four spoonfuls of sugar and three of powder creamer for Bertholdt, and then simply three of sugar for him but with no creamer. </p><p>The water soon began to boil and the electric kettle promptly let out a soft series of chimes, indicating it was done. Armin brought over their mugs and Bertholdt poured the water in each until full, before setting down the kettle and handing his roommate his steaming cup of coffee. They both took their spots at the dinner table, Armin making sure to grab the tin of palmier cookies he had bought a bit ago to go along with their coffee. </p><p>“Here, help yourself, as thanks for the food last night!” </p><p>Bertholdt blinked in surprise, “Oh! I love these! Where did you even get them?” He happily took one, dunking it in his coffee before biting into it and humming in delight. “They’re my favorite, I haven’t been able to find them anywhere, though.” </p><p>Armin laughed softly, stirring at his coffee before taking a bite out of his cookie and then a sip from his drink. “I had to go to the next town over, I guess I just had a really bad craving was all,” he admitted, albeit a tad embarrassed at the confession. </p><p>“And here you are, sharing them with me? I feel so honored, Armin.”</p><p>“Ah, hush you.” </p><p>They both laughed, and it wasn’t long after their coffee was finished and a tiny portion of the cookies were now gone. The two had chatted about this and that, their individual projects they were both working on. Bertholdt himself had just finished the final drawings for an author and was almost ready to send them over after he was done with the cell-shading, while Armin had vented about an annoying client that <em> insisted </em> on his logo resized to fit on an outdoor sign — except the client kept sending jpgs instead of a proper vector graphic, which could <em> actually </em> be resized without looking pixelated. Bertholdt broke into a tiny fit of laughter at that, knowing all too well the lunacies of past clients. Armin ignored the way it made his heart do a flip. </p><p>“Oh! By the way,” Bertholdt began, “I was wondering how free you were next weekend?”</p><p>The blond tilted his head slightly at that. He had to think. “Well, my schedule should be pretty empty by then. I don’t see myself taking on any new work any time soon, if I’m being completely honest here.”</p><p>The male visibly perked up at the sound of that, “Oh that's fantastic to hear!”</p><p>“It is?” Armin asked, shooting his roommate a quizzical look, “I’m on the edge of my seat here.”</p><p>Bertholdt chuckled, “I was planning on having Annie and Reiner over. I was looking forward to maybe introducing you, actually.”</p><p>What?</p><p>No, seriously, what?</p><p>“I…” Armin thought he had suddenly suffered a stroke, before blinking and forcing himself back into the conversation. “Oh! Reiner and Annie? As in, the <em> famed </em> Reiner and Annie.”</p><p>He laughed at that, “Okay, I get the hint, I know I probably talk your ear off about them but in <em> my </em>defense, I talk their ears off about you too, so there!” he replied, fake-pouting.</p><p>That caught him off-guard. Bertholdt talked about him? What did he say about him? Oh gods, maybe it would’ve been best to pretend he hadn’t heard that. </p><p>“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, of course…” Armin heard him say suddenly, his voice regaining the shy quietness it sometimes carried whenever Bertholdt was feeling insecure or nervous about something. The blond hated how it tugged at his heartstrings. He didn’t want to, for selfish reasons, but wanting to please Bertholdt like the happiness-pump he tended to be? That took precedence. </p><p>“No, no! I’d love to! Of course I’d love to meet them!” He let out a laugh, raising his hands in a placating manner, “I just hope I can live up to their expectations is all!”</p><p>“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’re going to love you! They’re both so dear to me, I don’t think I could’ve survived high school without them,” Bertholdt admitted. “Don’t worry, worst case scenario you say ‘hi’ and if you really don’t wanna stick around, I can bail you out!” </p><p>That at least helped make Armin feel a bit more tranquil, he would still try though. For him, at least. </p><p>“I’ll do my very best!”</p><p>“That’s the spirit!” Bertholdt cheered, happy to have gotten his way.</p><p><em> ‘Ah, shit…’ </em>Armin thought to himself. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>PHEW!!! If you're reading this, thank you so much and I hope you stick around for more!</p><p>also, this is <a href="https://tal-lira.com/product/blue-design-mugs-set-of-4/">Bertholdt's</a> mug and this is <a href="https://www.stashtea.com/products/van-gogh-starry-night-grande-mug-in-gift-box">Armin's</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Stained Glass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The hangout, shenanigans followed by nightly epiphanies.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh man, finally, chapter 2! As always big thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivianLynx">Eli</a> for beta-ing my work, please please please, check out her stuff, you'll have such a good time! I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The days following had very quickly bled into a week and before he knew it, the destined Saturday had come. It had been hell on Armin. Worse than hell! What on God’s-green-earth was he thinking when he agreed to meeting Bertholdt’s friends?! He had only two projects left that needed wrapping up before emailing them back to their respective owners, it should have been easy, only problem now was he was too stressed, too worried he was going to completely bungle everything up.</p><p>He thought back to how Bertholdt had told him that he talked about him to Reiner and Annie ‘all the time’ and as serotonin-inducing as that was, it had also been nerve-racking. It meant now they already had some predetermined image of him in mind. What if he didn’t live up to that expectation? What if he lived up to it too well? </p><p>Outside his room, he could hear Bertholdt rummaging around the hallway closet that was on the other side of his wall. The gentle giant was in the process of finishing preparations for his two guests’ arrival. Armin heard something fall before Bertholdt’s voice resonated through the wall, “Ah, dammit, dumb thing,” he heard him complain, causing him to chuckle to himself. </p><p>Armin, despite having been on the verge of a mental breakdown, couldn’t help but grin whenever he saw how excited his roommate had been in the days leading up to it. His happiness had been radiating off of him the entire time and the blond couldn’t help how endearing it was to play witness to it all. </p><p>The male remembered a memory from a couple of days ago; Armin was sitting on the couch, scrolling social media on his laptop while he enjoyed his tea when he heard Bertholdt come home. The black-haired man wore a triumphant smile as he walked into the living room. Armin could feel a warmth surround him as he gazed upon Bertholdt’s face, his windswept hair, the way it framed his long face so appropriately, and his grin… It was nothing but pure, unfiltered sunlight. The taller male set down the bags in his hands, a ‘thud’ resonated against the coffee table before he began pulling out several board games. Armin had almost choked on his drink when he saw just how many he had bought.  </p><p>“I didn’t know what we would all do, and I figured we’d need to break the ice somehow, and then it hit me! ’Game night’!” he had said with arms outstretched above his head, those pale-green irises practically gleaming at having come up with such a brilliant plan.</p><p>Armin shook his head still trying to process it all as his eyes scanned over titles; Uno, Monopoly, Risk, The Game of Life, he’d veto that one without hesitation. Clue, Star Wars Monopoly, Jesus — Game of Thrones Monopoly, Hedbanz, and lastly Scrabble.</p><p>“You uhh… Really want to play monopoly, huh?” The smaller of the two said, not being unable to state the obvious.</p><p>Bertholdt blinked before getting a bit red in the face, “I just wanted everyone to have options, leave me alone!” He deflected in faux-anger before the two erupted with laughter. </p><p>Armin smiled warmly to himself from the recalled memory just now, his mind suddenly halted in alarm when he heard the knock on the front door. Gods — it was time, wasn’t it? Bertholdt’s companions had finally arrived. </p><p>He got up and rushed into the bathroom, quickly giving himself a once-over in the mirror. Armin walked out into the living room just as Bertholdt was opening the door to greet them. </p><p>Sure, Armin knew what Annie and Reiner looked like, he’d seen pictures of them. It still didn’t prepare the male for seeing them in the flesh. He gulped watching as Bertholdt welcomed his friends inside, hugging the man first. Reiner wasn’t much shorter than Bertholdt but still much taller than Armin. It was only when his roommate moved to greet the female that he breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Armin found her to be even shorter than even himself, thankful that all of Bertholdt’s friends weren’t giants like him. </p><p>“Oh, you must be Armin!” Reiner suddenly declared when hazel eyes caught sight of blue. “Man, you would not believe the stories we’ve heard about you! I’m Reiner, but you probably already knew that!” he exclaimed cheerfully as he walked over and gave Armin the firmest handshake he had ever received in his life, it was almost painful. </p><p>“R… Right! Yes, I am he.” Gods, that was the dumbest thing he had ever spoken in his life. Armin was positive his face was bright red. </p><p>It only worsened when Reiner chuckled at him as he let go. Here, he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb to the female, hanging up her coat. “The chatterbox over there is —“ Reiner was very quickly interrupted.</p><p>“The ‘chatterbox’ can speak for herself, Reiner.” she responded curtly, making Armin flinch at how she was able to make his name alone sound like an insult. Annie turned and walked over to them, ignoring the other blond and shaking Armin’s hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Annie Leonhart — Oh sorry, that's work talking,” she quickly doubled-back to correct herself. Although Armin had to admit her formalness was strangely easier to deal with over Reiner’s overenthusiasm, Annie felt almost authoritative to him. “Just Annie, I mean.” A bit awkward, however, but it was very relieving to see that Armin wasn’t the only one who was nervous.</p><p>He smiled at her. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Annie.” It was then that Armin noticed Bertholdt from behind. The man was beaming with delight, very obviously enjoying every second of his two longest friends interacting with him. Their eyes met and Bertholdt’s smile only grew fonder as he looked back at Armin.</p><p>“Alright! Who’s up for some games?” Bertholdt suddenly asked, excitement painted clear on his face. He walked past them and into the main area of the living room, the three of them following behind Bertholdt before he turned around to face them.</p><p>Armin stifled a chuckle as it dawned on him how much Bertholdt resembled an excited child just now as he eagerly showed off the fruits of his labor. His roommate looked at them expectantly as he stood next to the array of snacks and drinks and red solo-cups on a little stand next to the coffee table that had never been there before. <em> ‘Oh, so that’s what the rummaging was about,’ </em> The blond thought to himself, putting two and two together. </p><p>On the table, Bertholdt had a stack of the board games to the side with Monopoly already set-up in the middle, very obviously wanting that to be the first game of the night. “Alright, guys! C’mon, let’s get started,” Bertholdt said as he took a seat. Here, he looked over at Armin. “Armin, sit next to me!” he added.</p><p>The blond in question blinked but grinned as he nodded before plopping down next to his roommate. Reiner took his spot on the opposite side of the table, pouring himself some soda in his cup, and Annie sat down at the side next to Armin, her hands instantly reaching over and grabbing a powdered, jelly-filled donut, Armin noted her features softened as she ate. </p><p>“S… So what do you guys do for work?” Armin asked, albeit a bit perplexed at his sudden eagerness to try and build rapport. He did promise. He promised Bertholdt he would try his hardest, that he wouldn’t bail and retreat to the safety of his room. </p><p>Surprisingly, the female was the first to speak up, “I work as a Private Investigator, actually,” she replied as if it was the most run of the mill job, said it as one would say they worked at a convenience store. Armin had to put in extra concentration into not spilling the drink he was pouring before handing it to Bertholdt and then pouring one to himself as he listened to Annie discuss her work,  “I’m kinda glad Bertholdt offered to get together when he did, if I’m being honest. I’m working a case at the moment that's leading me absolutely nowhere. A father hired me to try and locate his missing daughter. Any leads I find just take me to dead-ends.” She finished with a sigh of relief. It made the male wonder how hectic her life must be. Soon after, everyone began selecting their game pieces; Bertholdt went with the battleship, Annie selected the schnauzer, Reiner picked the race car, and Armin got stuck with the thimble. He stared at it and wondered if this was the Universe making a jab at him. They then rolled to see who’d go when and began playing before continuing the conversation.</p><p>Here, he turned to Reiner, getting a friendly grin thrown his way as soon as Armin did. “What about you, Reiner?” He asked, finding himself a bit anxious at what the answer was going to be. </p><p>“Oh, I work down at the museum as a geologist.” The bulky man let out a loud chuckle, “I promise it’s a lot more fun than it sounds! Plus, I get sneak peeks of new exhibits all the time, who wouldn’t want to work at a museum?”</p><p>“Uhm, normal people?” Annie quipped as she rolled the dice and moved her piece the corresponding amount of spaces, staring down at it with irritation when she landed herself in jail, causing Reiner to laugh even harder at her instant-karma. Even Bertholdt had done a poor job of stifling a giggle. They both promptly shut up when she shifted her gaze back at the two.</p><p>To say Armin was impressed was an understatement. How on earth did Bertholdt have such an array of interesting friends? And how did Armin ever believe he had fit in? </p><p>“So how ‘bout yourself! What do you do for work?” Reiner asked.</p><p>“Oh… I…” He didn’t get the chance to finish.</p><p>“He works as a graphic designer, actually!” Bertholdt replied for him, his tone merry and joyful. “You should really see some of his work, it's pretty awesome stuff! Honestly, if I had even an ounce of his creativity I’d be so much farther in my own work,” he admitted, shyly scratching his cheek with his index finger. “Hell, I probably wouldn’t find myself so swamped if I was as brilliant as Armin!”</p><p>The male suddenly felt like he was shrinking. Was Armin blushing? He was most certainly blushing. Why else would his face feel like it had suddenly gone up to a hundred degrees? Oh gods. Armin looked down, feeling himself shrivel up in the spotlight. What even prompted Bertholdt to say such a thing? His heart felt like someone was taking a jackhammer to it. He needed to say something before Bertholdt stopped talking. Instead however, came Reiner’s thunderous laugh. </p><p>“Wow Armin, looks like you’ve got yourself a fan! Careful, Berty here can get pretty wild!” He finished his last remark by sending Armin a quick wink. </p><p>“Reiner!” Bertholdt cried in embarrassment, crimson shades complementing his facial features.</p><p>Armin felt his body shake with giggles before full on bursting into a fit of laughter. “I’m sorry, ‘Berty’?!” He was laughing hard now, while Bertholdt hid his face in his hands. Even Annie had let out a soft chuckle at the dark-haired male’s expense, attention now fully on him. </p><p>Bertholdt’s muffled voice resonated from behind his hands. “It’s a dumb childhood nickname my mom used to call me, even when I had Reiner over. He never lets me live it down!” </p><p>The blond giggled, finally calming down and smiling sympathetically at his roommate’s antics while he rolled for him, moving his battleship piece past the ‘Go’ space and placing two-hundred monopoly dollars on Bertholdt’s stack of play money before landing him on one of the male’s own properties. Armin then reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving Bertholdt a gentle squeeze. “Hey…” He spoke sympathetically.</p><p>Bertholdt looked up, a glimmer of hope clear in his eyes. Oh, Armin was going to have fun shattering it. </p><p>“You owe me 300 dollars, Berty.” Armin spoke in the most innocent voice.</p><p>Everyone, with the exception of Bertholdt — burst into laughter at how straight-faced Armin had been capable of saying that. The gentle giant, on the other hand, now looked at each and every one of his so-called friends. Armin could see a fire ignite in his eyes but refrained from gulping. He and Reiner had just started a war and Bertholdt would be coming for them with the fury of a thousand burning suns. The two blonds now had a newfound reason to be scared for their lives. </p><p>—</p><p>Ironically, Bertholdt was actually getting very close to being broke. He kept buying miscellaneous spaces here and there but never whole sets. The one set he did purchase was the dark blues, Boardwalk and Park Place. Bertholdt had to sell one of his houses in order to do it. All three of them; Armin, Annie, and Reiner were confused by this, they felt bad even. When they had seen the look of determination in Bertholdt’s eyes, they had expected a challenge. Annie soon finished her turn before handing the dice to Bertholdt.</p><p>“Armin… ” he had begun when his turn to roll came, “Can we make a trade?”</p><p>Armin looked at him in a solicitous manner, “Sure, I’ll trade with you, Bertholdt,” he said, choosing to discard the nickname out of kindness. “What is it you want?” </p><p>“I’ll trade you both of my dark blues for your purple and your two reds… I can’t offer you much else though, I’m sorry, I guess I’m not as good at this as I thought,” he said, looking incredibly crestfallen. </p><p>That hadn’t made sense… Why would Bertholdt give away the most expensive spaces? Armin didn’t understand. Had Bertholdt really given up? Was this something he should do? All it took was to see how sad he looked for the blond to cave in to Bertholdt’s plea. How could he say no? “Of course, sounds like a good plan.”</p><p>“Really!?” The black-haired man’s eyes lit up with such excitement at his friend’s words. “No take-backs?” </p><p>“Yeah! No take backs!” They shook hands to finalize the agreement when suddenly, Armin heard Annie sharply take in air. He turned to look at her when she spoke.</p><p>“Oh… I would not have done that if I were you…” she said, gazing at the board as if she saw something Armin did not. The boy turned and looked at Reiner for help, frowning when he too looked just as confused as Armin. </p><p>It wasn’t long until Bertholdt had practically dominated the board, with his earlier trade completely taken over all of the green, red and purple spaces, adding hotels to them, which only doubled the prices of them now that they were owned sets. Anyone unlucky enough to land on one of Bertholdt’s spaces instantly found themselves bankrupt. Armin couldn’t believe how devious his roommate had been when he had sweet-talked him out of one of his properties, all his soft words. His downcast attitude had been the perfect catalysts towards securing his victories. </p><p>Armin had lost all his money he had taken from Reiner when he placed hotels on the two spots he received in the trade, not realizing how low the chances of anybody landing on them were. Especially when Annie kept finding herself in jail and kept having to pay just to get out. Reiner, on the other hand, had bought properties here and there, but something told Armin he wasn’t actually sure how to play the game when he offered Bertholdt a property instead of cash, especially when he had plenty. The victor here was clearly Bertholdt. Armin vowed to his roommate never to make fun of or underestimate him ever again. Bertholdt simply laughed before ruffling Armin’s hair. </p><p>“No need to worry, I can take a joke here and there, Ar’,” </p><p>“Ah..! R-right!” He stuttered, having been caught by surprise by the nickname Bertholdt had suddenly decided to christen him with. Was his hair messed up after Bertholdt had ruffled it? He didn’t care to fix it if it was. </p><p>—</p><p>The rest of the night had gone off without a hitch! Armin had been so completely entertained playing various board games with Bertholdt and his friends, it was surprising to say the least. Before this get-together had happened, the male truly thought he wouldn’t be able to make it past the first board game, and yet — here he was! Laughing his head off at all the embarrassing stories that had been recounted by Bertholdt and Annie about Reiner, then by Bertholdt and Reiner about Annie — the two friends in turn, amusedly enjoying the tales Armin had of Bertholdt during their college life. Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie had all cackled at him when they moved on to the game ‘Hedbanz’ and Armin couldn’t guess that he was a snake from how vague the clues that were tossed his way. </p><p>Armin also learned never to get on the female’s bad side when he practically hid behind Bertholdt as she threatened Reiner with his life when the quartet had decided to move onto Uno and Reiner made the mistake of playing a reverse card on Annie after she had very nearly emptied her hand, sealing her defeat as a result, very nearly getting punched when Reiner had suggested Bertholdt should have bought ‘Sorry!’ as well. Armin swore he had gotten PTSD from that alone. Bertholdt only smiled and laughed at how afraid he was, saying “Annie’s actually very sweet, don’t worry.” He finished with a pat to Armin’s head</p><p>He would have yet to see this so-called ‘sweet’ side from the private investigator. The foursome then played Clue shortly after, and much to everyone’s surprise Reiner had won that one, leaving everyone with their mouths agape when the beefy blond had admitted to not having been clear on the rules.  </p><p>Before they all knew it, they had quickly burned through all the games, even Scrabble. The time of departure had come, Reiner had work in the morning and Annie had a case that wasn’t going to solve itself. It was when they all stood at the door that Reiner offered his hand to shake, Armin blinked in surprise as he was pulled into a sudden, crushing bear hug. </p><p>“It was so good to meet you, Armin! Bertholdt was right on the money with you, you were a total blast! You made sure to save my contact info, right?” he asked, giving a satisfied smile when Armin showed Reiner’s name in his phone. Reiner had insisted he and Annie exchange all exchange numbers to make coordinating future meetups all the easier. </p><p>Annie offered a simple handshake, which according to Reiner was astronomical progress. “I just don’t feel like getting pressed with an assault charge, okay?” she curtly responded, smiling politely when Armin shook hands with her. “This was nice, I’ll admit.” And with that, the duo put on their coats, said their goodbyes to Bertholdt and left.</p><p>“Wow… I,” Armin paused before looking at Bertholdt, who was wearing the biggest smile in return, “I had a lot of fun, thank you for letting me be a part of this.” he said as the two headed back into the living room and Armin began the process of helping his roommate clean up the aftermath of their little soiree. </p><p>“That makes me so happy to hear! Really! Thank you for being here Armin, it truly wouldn’t have been as fun without you.” Bertholdt admitted as he walked towards the hallway closet and put away the plastic stand before coming back out. “I uhm… Are you tired?”</p><p>“Not really, why?” </p><p>“Do you want to watch a movie together before calling it a night?” </p><p>Armin smiled warmly at that, before nodding. “Absolutely.” </p><p>And with that, the two had settled on the couch with a tiny remainder of the snacks and a big blanket for extra comfort. They watched a movie the two had already seen before, Bridesmaids — sharing in fits of laughter here and there, but halfway through the movie, Bertholdt had gone quiet. Armin was about to turn, half-expecting his companion to be scrolling on his phone, but the chance to check never came. The blond felt a weight on his shoulder, Bertholdt had finally dozed off, probably having been a lot more tired than he let on. Now he was sleeping soundly on Armin. He smiled warmly, reaching up with his hand and softly stroking Bertholdt’s feather-soft hair. He looked so peaceful. Armin turned and watched the rest of the film in blissful tranquility.</p><p>When the movie had finally reached its conclusion, Armin gently reached over Bertholdt’s lap for the remote, using it to turn off the tv before setting it as quietly as possible on the end table next to the couch. He gently nudged Bertholdt until he was awake again, watching as his eyelids slowly lift up to reveal his perfect leaf-greens. </p><p>“Hey… You fell asleep there,” Armin spoke in a hushed whisper with a light chuckle to communicate he wasn't annoyed.</p><p>Bertholdt let out a soft yawn before stretching his limbs, “Aw, I’m sorry…” He sat back, looking at Armin drowsily. “I guess I just got really relaxed was all, after it gets past a certain point in the night my body just quits on me,” he added with a sheepish grin. </p><p>Armin smiled at him in understanding before he moved to get up. “No worries, I think I’m going to head to bed though… You gonna crash on the couch?” he asked with a tilt to his head. </p><p>Here, Bertholdt looked down before looking back up at Armin, much in the similar fashion of when he conned the blond out of his spaces, except… This time it had a much more genuine air to it. Bertholdt opened his mouth as he looked at Armin. “Actually… I was sorta hoping you’d crash here, with me…” The taller male looked away, towards the drawn curtains as though he had suddenly found them to be very interesting. “Y’know, like, how we used to..?” His voice was trailing off.</p><p>Armin did know. In fact he knew too well. Bertholdt spoke of course of how the two usually slept in the same bed together. It was something that first happened in college — Bertholdt had gotten back to the dorms after his study group had run late only to see Armin weeping hard into his pillow, the blond hadn’t even heard his friend come in. Bertholdt had immediately dashed to Armin’s side, face painted with worry and deep concern. </p><p>“Armin! What on earth happened? Are you okay?” He had thrown what felt like a billion questions at him and all Armin could do was shake his head as his body shook violently in front of his roommate. Bertholdt instantly pulled him into the tightest hug, wrapping his long limbs securely around Armin’s tiny waist. The blond wailed for what felt like an eternity before confessing that he had gotten a phone call earlier. It was from the hospital his grandfather had been staying at. They had called him to inform Armin of his passing, having lost the battle against the disease that plagued his body. Bertholdt had gently stroked Armin’s hair the entire time he held him there on his bed until the blond had finally stopped crying. He had helped him by picking out his night clothes, turning and then turning back when Armin had finished changing. The two had watched a film on Bertholdt’s laptop that Armin couldn’t remember the name of but was sure it was some sort of comedy. They had both sat in the blond’s bed and when the movie was over, Bertholdt set his laptop on the nightstand before moving to get off. Armin grabbed at his sleeve, shyly admitting that he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts right now, but he also didn’t want to talk about what was going through his head. Armin’s eyes had looked into Bertholdt’s, eyes full of loss and uncertainty met eyes full of understanding and kindness.</p><p>Bertholdt very simply had replied, “If you’d like, I could hold you until you fell asleep.” </p><p>And so they did. Bertholdt lied when he said ‘until Armin fell asleep’ however, both of the males had been exhausted, one emotionally while the other physically. The second their heads hit the pillow and Bertholdt’s arms had Armin in a binding of limbs, the two very quickly succumbed to sleep, surprised that they both slept so soundly. </p><p>Bertholdt however was the one who was really astounded here. He was known to be such a rowdy sleeper, always tossing and turning, waking up in a tangle of sheets and appendages, but the morning after he slept with Armin? None of it. Neither of the two had moved or stirred once in their sleep and both had found themselves to have woken up in such a refreshed state. They slept like that a couple of times after that event, not often but enough whenever tensions rose too high for either one of their lives. Be it depressive episodes, finals, breakups, etc. — it wasn’t as though they were dating, they weren't any sort of couple. Sure, Bertholdt knew of Armin’s attraction to men, while Bertholdt himself was pansexual, but such things simply didn’t come up… Armin never knew how to spawn them naturally into their conversations. So he never did. Content with the crumbs he’d receive. </p><p>—</p><p>Bertholdt’s voice pulled Armin back into present time, “We really don’t have to if you don’t want to, we just haven’t cuddled since… Well, since college.” His smile had long since faltered but he still tried to compensate by adding with a soft laugh. “I don’t know, I guess I miss feeling so close to you, is that bad?”</p><p>Armin wondered if his roommate had ever experienced rejection. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure why they stopped either. Perhaps it was that they now slept in separate rooms, perhaps it was the result of a careless remark on his roommate’s behalf. <em> ‘Since when should ‘brothers’ be so close, Bertholdt?’ </em> Armin’s mind questioned internally. It caused his self-loathing to rise. He wanted to vomit at that particular intrusive thought, so thoroughly repulsed by its unwelcome presence. How dare it mar such a moment between Bertholdt and him. Armin shook his head, wanting to do away with such thoughts. This is what happiness feels like.  </p><p>“Don’t be silly, move over!” Armin said, laughing cheerfully. Not wanting to come to terms with how ashamed he felt with himself seconds ago. “It’s only harder because we’re in separate rooms and work on different schedules.”</p><p>“I still miss it regardless,” Bertholdt shyly admitted. </p><p>The corners of Bertholdt’s mouth went up in wide grin, as he happily complied  with Armin’s request, laying on his side and as far back as possible before patting the empty space next to him, as if communicating that he wants nothing more than for Armin to be the one to fill that void. The blond, in turn, could feel his heart warm up at that particular thought. Without wasting another second he slid into the space next to Bertholdt. In response, Bertholdt draped the blanket over his smaller body. Armin waited before feeling a smile play at his lips as he felt Bertholdt snake his arms around his svelte waist from behind. </p><p>Suddenly, Bertholdt’s nose was against his hair, Armin could hear the gentle intake of air before his roommate spoke again. “Thank you so much,” his hold on the smaller male tightened ever so slightly, “for hanging out tonight and giving my friends a chance, Ar’, you have no idea how much it meant to me. I think they really liked you.”</p><p>There was that nickname again. Armin could feel his brain short-circuit at the sound of it coming from Bertholdt’s mouth. “I had fun too, I’d love to have the four of us do something like that again,” he replied, closing his eyes and enjoying the way his roommate’s warmth seemed to flood and absorb him, wanting nothing more than to give himself over to it. </p><p>“I’d love for that too…” Bertholdt’s groggy voice died down as he whispered every syllable before all that could be heard was his gentle breathing — evidence of the dark-haired man having let sleep retake its hold over him. </p><p>Armin didn’t fall asleep just yet. His mind wasn’t letting him. Instead only a single question seemed to float ethereally in the core of his brain: <em> ‘Do I like Bertholdt..?’ </em> he finally questioned as languor began to slowly overcome him. He asked himself that very question again. But it wasn’t something he wanted an answer to. How could he even ask that? Bertholdt was his closest friend. Why trample that? Besides, his feelings shouldn’t even be up for debate. It was how Bertholdt felt that really mattered, and the man had made that clear to Armin long ago. He did his best to suppress a dubious chuckle. Bertholdt with him? What universe could even think of such a thing. How preposterous. Armin decided he’d be happy with just this. He’d nestle into the other’s arms, pressing his back against the other male’s chest as Armin dared imagine a million more ludicrous things.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Forcast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Reality and unreality.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fuck 136. <br/>Only <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26989504/chapters/65880622">🐍</a> canon now.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <span>A soft intake of air followed by a tiny yawn. Armin squeezed his eyes before finally opening them. His sleep-induced stupor still weighed down his body, albeit more-so than usual. He softly took in the scent of the body he now laid against before then taking note of his companion and his own new positions. Somewhere between the time he had gone to sleep and the time he’d woken up, Armin and Bertholdt had both adjusted their poses. The taller of the two was now flat on his back with the blond’s head on his chest. Bertholdt’s arm had found itself draped loosely over the other’s tiny body. </span>
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  <span>Armin wondered what time it was; it definitely felt like noon from how the sunlight seeped in from the space between the living-room curtains. Armin could feel how restful and refreshing his slumber had been and he certainly wasn’t stupid enough to not know the only reason for this was his roommate. Each and every time the two shared a bed, his sleep would always be relaxing and undisturbed. </span>
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  <span>It was then that Armin felt Bertholdt stir gently. He tilted his head up from his chest watching the other male’s eyelids slowly flutter open, green almost instinctively finding blue. </span>
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  <span>“G’morning Bertholdt,” Armin spoke. He furrowed his eyebrows at the odd way his whispered voice came out as if without his permission.</span>
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  <span>Bertholdt smiled pleasantly, warmly, tenderly his expression carried an air of calm lassitude. “Ar’, you’re awake,” he said before his arm tightened around Armin’s lithe body before adjusting the blond so that he was now laying on top of Bertholdt himself. </span>
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  <span>Armin blinked at the sudden increase of proximity, trying to speak only to find himself stupefied when silence was all that came forth. He looked at Bertholdt, his eyes searching for answers only to find none in the brunet’s unchanging expression. </span>
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  <span>Bertholdt’s smile didn’t falter and he kept his gaze fixed on the blond settled on him. He kept his grip strong around his roommate’s waist while his other hand moved to softly comb through flaxen locks — the way he knew Armin liked, the way he had done countless times when he would cheer the blond up after the times life had truly beaten him down. And that’s how it would go: Bertholdt would play with his hair, the stimuli serving to calm Armin, before pulling the lad into a gentle hug, that was the pattern. Only this time, something changed. For whatever reason Bertholdt had decided to adjust his paradigm. The brunet moved his hand to Armin’s face before slowly sweeping back the curtain of hair that covered the tiny male’s forehead. Bertholdt closed his eyes before leaning his head up and pressing his lips softly against the skin. </span>
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  <span>It was then that time truly felt distorted for Armin. He felt everything happening much too rapidly and yet he was frozen in this moment, it was the oddest sensation of having his forehead kissed. No one had done such a thing to him in his life; not his parents who cared little for him before deciding to abandon him to his grandpa, not the very same grandfather who had practically taken the role of raising Armin. No one had ever kissed him in a way that only communicated nothing but tenderness. Why couldn’t he say anything? Why couldn’t he force himself to speak? All he could do was stare as Bertholdt pulled back, still wearing his same, unchanging expression. And then, nothing.</span>
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  <span>Darkness.</span>
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  <span>Armin’s eyes opened only to instantly be met with black nothing. His mind straightaway noted the fact that he was now back in his original position, and Bertholdt’s gentle inhaling and exhaling could be heard from behind, indicating the other was still sound asleep. That entire scene had been nothing more than a fabrication of his subconscious. Little wonder why he wasn’t as vocal as he would’ve liked. Little wonder why he felt so much happier in that reality. He idly pondered to himself how hard it would be to teach himself the art of lucid dreaming. Armin shook his head trying to focus, and he fished his phone out of his pocket, then brought the device close to his face before clicking it on. Armin flinched before screwing his eyes shut after having just burned the life out of his retinas. He quickly turned his phone’s brightness to its lowest setting before cautiously peeking at the time. It was barely 3 a. m. The blond sighed before putting his cell on the floor and closing his eyes. As sleep began to retake him Armin hoped his brain would resume the dream like hitting ‘play’ on a paused movie. </span>
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  <span>No such luck… </span>
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  <span>The next time Armin opened his eyes, it was daylight. The male turned, noticing he was now alone on the couch; the blanket he had shared with Bertholdt had now been carefully draped over him, signifying that his roommate had taken the time to tuck him in. Armin turned his head, and his nose almost instantly honed in on the aroma of food coming from the kitchen, the sound of sizzling on the pan and the careful scraping of a spatula. He moved the blanket off before getting up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Armin walked into the kitchen slash dining room, his eyes instantly landed on the source of the appetizing aroma that had roused him from his slumber. On the table, his roommate had taken the time to prepare their plates each with a good helping of what could only be described as the fluffiest looking cheddar-cheese-topped scrambled eggs Armin had ever laid eyes on. Next to the eggs, Bertholdt had placed a side of toast and sausage for the both of them, and next to their plates sat their corresponding mugs, both filled to the brim with coffee fixed just the way they each liked it. Armin had noted the steam emanating off the food; knowing the culinary expert the brunet was, Armin didn’t doubt even he could make such a simple dish look so mouthwateringly inviting. Armin simply couldn’t wait to dig in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, I kinda wish you had woken me up sooner so I could’ve helped, er, somehow.” Armin admitted he wasn’t exactly the best cook — hell, he could burn water if left in the kitchen unsupervised for too long — but he still felt guilty. This wasn’t just Bertholdt leaving leftovers for him because he had made too much, he had gone out of his way to cook them breakfast. The gears of Armin’s mind had begun to turn, now he needed to find a way to pay him back. He had already accrued so much emotional debt to Bertholdt when Armin had only ever repaid him with dishonest lies. It was about time he did something in return. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bertholdt, in turn, waved his hand dismissively, a smile clear on his face as he pulled out Armin’s chair for him before sitting down, patiently waiting for his roommate to join him at the table. “I promise you, it’s no trouble at all. Though if you really wanted to, you could be on dish duty,” he said almost coyly, taking a sip from his coffee and looking away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They shared in laughter as Armin agreed. Shortly after the duo began to dig into their meal. The blond audibly sighed in front of Bertholdt, who, in turn, looked up from his phone in time to witness Armin’s appeased expression, very clearly enjoying the food.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it good?” Bertholdt couldn’t help but question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The male shook his head as he took another fork-full followed by a bite of his toast before swallowing, wincing slightly at the pain brought about by having sent too big a portion down his throat. Armin took a swig of his coffee before finally speaking again, “No, not good, Bertholdt — it’s great! You never fail to impress, especially in the kitchen.” He finished with a bashful chuckle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bertholdt smiled warmly at him before turning away, and Armin could tell he did this in order to avoid his face from reddening too much should Bertholdt have chosen to maintain eye contact. “It’s just something I like to do. I, uhm, I guess that’s why it comes naturally to me…” As usual, with every word that left the brunet’s lips, his voice died down decibel by a decibel. In all honesty, it was this shyness that Armin found so comforting. Bertholdt absorbed new information better than anyone the blond had ever met, he made any task placed in front of him seem like a complete cake-walk. Had Bertholdt developed the confidence to back all that skill up, Armin would most definitely be far too intimidated, feel far too inadequate to even be his friend, much less his… No, he was not about to finish that thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S– So!” Armin began, wanting to resume the conversation and also deter his wandering mind, “what are your plans for the day?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bertholdt stopped and adopted a contemplative look before looking at his phone and scrolling through it, reviewing his schedule. “Looks like today I’ve gotta finish shading the cover art for a client…” He looked pensive now, “I’m not sure how long it’ll take though, I can never seem to decide what colors look best,” the man admitted coupled with an embarrassed chuckle. “What about you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Armin smiled as he shook his head. He still had his projects to finish from before the hangout with Annie and Reiner but then again, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> the weekend. Armin had always made it a personal rule never to work on those two days, he wasn’t going to break it now. He looked back over to Bertholdt with a shrug to his shoulders, “I think I’ll probably just be in my room, maybe have a lazy day,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bertholdt giggled at that as he rose from his seating position, reaching over and grabbing Armin’s now empty plate. “Nothing wrong with that. If you need anything you can always pop over, I don’t mind your company while I work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blond beamed, just a little, as he stood up as well — making sure to assist with clearing the table by grabbing their mugs and following the taller man to the sink, handing them to him when he finished rinsing off the plates. Once all the dishes were deposited in the washing machine the two headed their separate ways; Bertholdt to his office, and Armin to his room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only when the door finally shut behind him did Armin finally collapse onto his bed in his nest of pillows, and he sighed as he almost instinctively wrapped his arms around one, laying it on his chest. He laid there like that for a while, staring at the ceiling as if something interesting could occur at any moment. The scene from his dream kept replaying in his head, over and over. It had been so vivid, so real. He closed his eyes to visualize it, furrowing his eyebrows as even now he could feel details start to fade. He could feel himself beginning to forget the sensation of his forehead being kissed. His fingers reached up, ghosting over the area where his lips had made contact. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Armin sighed, he just needed a distraction, that’s all. A distraction from feeling so isolated all the time. He reached for his phone, unlocking it before opening his text messages, where he typed a single letter into the recipient field before ‘Reiner’ instantly populated in the empty space. Armin stared at the name for what felt like an eternity before ultimately erasing it. He typed another letter into the empty bar. ‘Annie’ appeared without a moment’s hesitation and again he gazed at the name, a sudden wave of unworthiness washing over him. He swallowed before hitting the ‘Home’ button and closing his messages app. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His finger scrolled and then hovered over a different application, teal and brown in color with the icon of a heart on fire, a dating app. The blond shuddered as he was then assaulted with memories of his most recent experience. Just another bad moment among many. He took the time to tell himself this wouldn’t be like that. It could go differently. He knew he didn’t want to simply hook up, that never led to anything more than one of them becoming clingy (him) before ultimately getting hurt (again, him). Armin bit his lower lip before finally giving in and opening the app. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t even take three whole minutes before he got his first message, his thumb went to his inbox seeing the icon of a man well into his late thirties. Blond and shirtless with a toned body, Armin’s eyes drifted over to the message preview, sighing in exasperation when all it read was ‘Image’, he knew exactly what it was without even having to open it. But he did. Armin stared at the photo of the man’s engorged member, an absurd size, and while it was nice to look at, it wasn’t what he was shopping for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool penis, sir, but no thank you,” Armin said to his phone. Then moving dangerously fast to the ‘block’ button when the letters ‘wyd’ populated underneath the image. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed dejectedly as this pattern of receiving an illicit picture before blocking went on for what felt like the most boring fifteen minutes of his life. Even messages that started with a simple ‘hey’ were always followed by an unsolicited picture the second Armin responded. He was getting nowhere fast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes lazily drifted over to the red dot over the inbox icon when his phone vibrated again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Another one?’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought to himself, already unimpressed as his thumb opened the message. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hello there! :), </span>
  </em>
  <span>The text read. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Armin’s eyes moved over the user’s handle, Bodt-Bott27. He hoped he wasn’t chatting with an actual bot, there had been far too many times where the blond thought he was having a normal conversation only to be sent links half-way through the chat about questionable enlargement pills. He shrugged his shoulders; worst comes to worst, he just blocked them along with the ten million other accounts he’d already blocked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hi, how are you? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Armin finally messaged back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before long, Armin had found himself propped up against his head rest, now fully engrossed in conversation with the male whose name Armin had learned was Marco. They chatted about basic things at first, like each other’s likes and dislikes, and the two had bonded over their mutual love for the same TV series and had discussed what each thought about certain characters, where the plot was headed, and theories as to who was going to end up with who. The two had completely hit it off, though, it did help that the bar was set pretty low to begin with. Armin and Marco had practically burned through topics of conversation before Marco inquired about Armin’s current availability then moving on to discussing the possibility of an impromptu date. While initially surprised, Armin couldn’t help but agree to the proposition, this was exactly what he needed right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blond hopped off the bed once he had said his goodbyes to Marco and grabbed a change of clothes. He then proceeded to shower and get dressed before drying and doing his hair. Back inside his room, Armin looked at himself in the mirror. His outfit consisted of a beige button up and a brown sweater vest over that, neatly tucked into a pair of matching slacks with black loafers. Blue eyes scanned the figure, looking for any faults before giving his reflection a satisfied grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was only when he stepped out into the hall that he saw the door to Bertholdt’s office open before the man in question stepped out. Armin watched as his expression changed from startled to relieved before Bertholdt’s head moved down and then back up as green reunited with blue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, Armin — where are you headed?” The brunet asked with a surprised smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve got a date!” he replied, barely able to contain his excitement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was for a brief instant, a split second, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment where Bertholdt had suddenly dawned a troubled expression at Armin’s answer. It happened so suddenly before morphing into a supportive smile. “Well, just be careful out there, okay? Call me if you need me to come pick you up and I’ll be there in a flash, ‘kay Ar’?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Armin nodded with a bright smile on his face. It was strange, normally the mention of the nickname brought about a heat to Armin’s face, but this time it was completely absent. Perhaps he had just gotten used to it. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, thank you!” he finally replied as he walked out of the hall and towards the front door, putting on his coat that hung from the rack. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be safe,” Bertholdt said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will!” Armin responded with a smile towards the brunet before he walked out the door ready for his date with the man named Marco Bodt.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As per usual, yall have <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivianLynx/pseuds/LivianLynx">Eli</a> to thank for this being so readable.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Spine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While Armin's away, Bertholdt's thoughts come to play.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Phew! Let's hear it for the very first Bertholdt POV chapter, expect more sporadically!</p>
<p>... Also, I really hate writing text conversations so much... Why do I do this to myself???</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bertholdt watched as the blond left, watched as he closed the door behind him. He looked around with a grimace on his face. It wasn’t as though they had been hanging out, they were each doing their own things before Armin left, yet still, their apartment felt so dull without his roommate’s presence. He let out a soft sigh. “What now?” he couldn’t help but ask no one in particular. </p>
<p>The man sighed as he turned and walked back into his office, leaving the door open so he could hear in case Armin came back for whatever reason. He opened up his unfinished drawing, sighing as he stared at the flat colors. Inspiration was at an all-time low. He wished Armin was here, he could use someone with an artistic eye like his. It was times like these he wished they could own a pet of some sort. Nothing crazy, a dog or a cat would do. How would that even go? What if Armin decided to move out? Would they just have joint-custody over the animal like divorced parents? “No, Armin wouldn’t just up and leave,” he simply reminded himself. These days however, Bertholdt had found the need to tell himself that more than usual. <em> This </em>is why he hated being alone, it always led to thinking. </p>
<p>He sat down and leaned back before taking his phone out and writing out a short message to Reiner coupled with a waving emoji. He always seemed to be a pleasant way to alleviate Bertholdt’s chronic boredom. Reiner never failed to make him laugh with a seemingly endless supply of memes or ‘cursed images’ that he always had on hand. Bertholdt could use a laugh right about now anyways.</p>
<p>About five minutes passed without an answer before Bertholdt gave up and instead opened up his messages with Annie, he looked at his phone as he typed out a simple ‘What are you up to?’ followed by an emoji of a smiling cat. After about three minutes only a check-mark had appeared under his message bubble, this being a prime indicator that Annie didn’t feel like responding and while, yes, that was very on-brand for her, Bertholdt couldn’t deny it stung a tiny bit every time…</p>
<p>Finally, it came to him, hitting him upside the head like a brick. He had never texted Armin! He glanced at the time, it hadn’t been that long since he left but Bertholdt didn’t want to waste another second. Quickly, he opened up his conversations with Armin, a smile on his face as he typed out a simple, ‘Have fun on your date, I’m rooting for you!’ Attaching a GIF of a cartoon four-leaf clover with a goofy smile on its face, bouncing up and down, the caption ‘Good Luck!’ written above. Bertholdt gave his message a once-over, checking for errors before nodding satisfied and hitting send. </p>
<p>Bertholdt truly thought he was just going to get ignored again. It was really the only reason he jumped from having been startled when his phone went off the second he put it down on his desk. He reached over, wondering who it could be. <em> ‘More than likely, Reiner,’ </em>he thought to himself. He didn’t expect Annie to text back anytime soon and Armin was probably much too preoccupied to spend time replying to him. Bertholdt’s green eyes widened in a mixture of amazement and delight when it was none other than Armin who had responded. </p>
<p><em> Thank you, I really need it! I just got on the bus but I’m already a bit nervous – as usual, </em>Armin had typed back along with a smiling-sweating emoji and a blue heart. </p>
<p>Bertholdt smiled endearingly at the text before thumbing a response, his computer and work suddenly a million miles away. </p>
<p><em> Armin, don’t even worry for a second! I’m more than positive it’s going to go great for you! I believe in you! </em>Here, Bertholdt had attached another gif, this time of a cartoon giraffe with cheerleader pom-poms. </p>
<p>He didn’t even get the chance to put his phone down, not that Bertholdt wanted to, before Armin countered with a set of laughing emojis before sending a gif of his own, one that made absolutely no sense: it was an image of two dogs, one bonking the other upside the head. The nonsensical act only made Bertholdt laugh before he thumbed back a reply of his own. </p>
<p>It was like this that Bertholdt had begun happily texting back and forth with Armin. With his work long forgotten, the man now found himself walking to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee while he enjoyed his conversation. He was on the edge of his seat and from the texts, the date had only just started according to Armin, but this way, Bertholdt had a front-row seat to it.   </p>
<p>Briefly, Bertholdt put his phone back in his pocket, already feeling the multiple vibrations against his leg as Armin sent a barrage of messages he wanted so badly to reply to, but it would have to wait – his caffeine addiction needed to be satiated first. He looked in the cupboards and sighed upon seeing only their plain-white guest mugs. Bertholdt remembered the coffee he’d had this morning, now knowing where his mug was. Drinking out of a guest mug was certainly out of the question for him and he wasn’t about to break his personal rule today. Bertholdt walked over and opened up the dishwasher. As his hand reached to retrieve his mug so he could quickly wash it in the sink, he stopped suddenly. The man was still, deep in contemplation as an idea materialized in his head abruptly and unannounced. Bertholdt’s hand was now hovering over Armin’s mug. <em> ‘Would he mind if I just…’ </em> His thought trailed off as slender fingers tentatively wrapped around the handle of Armin’s <em> Starry Night </em>mug before lifting it and closing the dishwasher. He couldn’t help it, he felt such an odd sensation of giddiness as he now washed the mug in the sink before patting it dry and preparing his coffee. He didn’t understand why he felt like a child after having taken extra cookies out of the cookie jar. Such an innocent yet devious act. He couldn’t help but chuckle.</p>
<p>After he finished preparing his coffee, Bertholdt retrieved his phone back from his pocket, reading Armin’s texts before thumbing a quick apology, explaining he had just fixed himself a snack. Armin and his date, who Bertholdt learned was named ‘Marco’ had gone to one of the local coffee shops not too far from their apartment. The plan was to chat over coffee and snacks, according to Armin. Still, he couldn’t help but feel worried. He remembered the date Armin had gone on just a week ago and the look Armin wore on his face as he emerged from his room the morning after. Bertholdt just <em> knew </em> something had gone wrong. Armin hadn’t fooled Bertholdt for a second, but he thought it best not to press the issue. Still, he had to ease his worries, or at the very least know who to have in his crosshairs should this <em> ‘Marco’ </em>decide to hurt Armin...</p>
<p><em> So, Armin, </em> The brunet texted as he walked back into the living room, taking a seat at the couch. <em> How old </em> <b> <em>is</em> </b> <em> Marco? I really hope you aren’t secretly into silver foxes… </em>He added a thinking emoji here in hopes of masking his concern with comedy. </p>
<p>In a matter of seconds, Bertholdt’s phone went off with Armin’s reply, a series of crying emojis followed by the blond instantly sending an all-capital rejection of that accusation. His phone went off again, this time a message with an image attached, <em> He’s twenty-seven, here’s what he looks like! </em></p>
<p>Bertholdt tapped the image and waited for it to download. He stared down at the picture of a smiling brunet, a standard bathroom selfie, the man’s profile picture no doubt, parted brown hair and a face speckled in freckles. He was attractive, he looked like he practically invented charisma. Bertholdt’s grip on Armin’s mug tightened as he scowled at the picture. <em> ‘</em><b><em>This</em> </b> <em> is who Armin’s on a date with?’ </em>He thought with a scoff, how had a single image managed to sour his mood? </p>
<p>The image was pushed upwards as another message came in, <em> Well, what’s the consensus? </em>Armin had texted.</p>
<p><em> Wow, Armin! He looks very cute, good job! </em> Bertholdt added plenty of party hat smiley faces, but despite all that and the enthusiasm in his texting, Bertholdt typed out his reply with an annoyed expression. <em> Go for the attack! Seduce, seduce! </em>Bertholdt texted in response. </p>
<p>He wanted to punch himself. He should be happy for Armin. Bertholdt <em> shouldn’t </em>be acting like a child. He put his phone to the side as Bertholdt leaned back into the couch, now holding the mug with both hands and drinking from it, keeping his lips on it long after he swallowed before pulling back the cup, staring at the edge of the mug just inches from his lips. Armin had taken a drink from this very mug countless times and now Bertholdt was too. He could already feel his despondent mood begin to dissipate at that, a smile playing on his lips as it did. </p>
<p>Some time had passed and the man had long since finished scrolling through social media, refreshing his news feed only to exhale in disappointment when nothing new populated it. His coffee had long since been finished. Bertholdt set the mug down on the coffee table before getting up and walking to his room, then walking back out, making a quick stop at the kitchen, iPad in hand and mug refilled. Bertholdt sat back down in his spot before shifting his gaze over to his phone resting quietly on the arm of the sofa. He stared at it for a while before setting his, well, <em> Armin’s </em> mug down and unlocking his phone, checking his messages in case it simply didn’t notify him. Instead, he found nothing. He hadn’t received a response from Armin. Of course he hadn’t, the blond was off having the time of his life with <em> Marco </em>.</p>
<p>“Oh come on, don’t be so dramatic,” he scolded himself, refusing to let his inexplicable bad mood make a return. Still, Bertholdt couldn’t help but wonder. When was the last time he and Armin had gotten a chance to hang out together? <em> Hell</em>, when was the last time Bertholdt, himself, had gone on a date for that matter? Was he as okay with coasting through life as he once assumed? </p>
<p>He sighed, trying to shake himself off this train of thought before it truly started to wander into uncharted territory. Bertholdt thumbed open the Kindle app on his tablet as he assumed a comfortable position, immersing himself in his book, finally allowing himself a break from reality. </p>
<p>Truth be told, he hadn’t gotten the chance to read in forever. Bertholdt had been so busy with finishing illustrations and then buying supplies for the hangout with Reiner and Annie. He opened up the virtual book as he scanned the text, finding where he last left off. </p>
<p>The main protagonist was in class when suddenly he could no longer move, nor could anyone else for that manner, even the teacher. Out of nowhere, a man had appeared in the story, very clearly the antagonist, Bertholdt was devouring word after word with his eyes, intrigued to see how the main character was going to get out of this. The man had suddenly taken note of the main character frozen behind his desk, he walked over to him and loomed down, he raised a deformed hand that reached out to grab at the – <em> SLAM! </em></p>
<p> Bertholdt’s attention was abruptly ripped from his book by the startling sound of the front door harshly closing. His hand gripped at the front of his shirt, trying to still his heart that had already been pounding in his chest from the intensity of the scene. He looked towards the door, his eyes widening when he stared into cerulean irises that mirrored his agitated expression.</p>
<p>Armin.</p>
<p>“S… Sorry…” the blond spoke, voice meek and subdued, “I didn’t… Didn’t mean to slam it.” </p>
<p>Suddenly, nothing else mattered. The brunet’s jolted look instantly turned into one full of worry and concern for his roommate. Bertholdt shut off his tablet, setting it down on the coffee table before rising and walking towards Armin, his heart sinking when he saw Armin back up against the wall, averting his gaze to the side. Bertholdt had a million questions he wanted to ask. What had happened? Are you okay? Is there a dead, freckled man in Bertholdt’s future? Well, actually, that last part Bertholdt wouldn’t follow through on, he was much too afraid of authority figures like policemen for that. He shook his head. Bertholdt needed to focus.</p>
<p>He closed the distance between Armin and himself, taking slow, gentle steps. “Armin, hey…” Bertholdt offered in a quiet voice, and he reached out his hand for the smaller male to take. It felt like he had been pierced through the heart when he saw Armin reach to take his hand, when he felt how it trembled ever so slightly in his gentle grip. He softly tightened around Armin’s soft fingers before leading them back to the couch. </p>
<p>Bertholdt sat Armin down, before taking a seat next to him. He wrapped an arm around the blond experimentally. “Is this okay?” he asked.</p>
<p>Armin nodded, his downcast gaze stayed affixed to the floor before he spoke. “Gods, Bertholdt – It was awful…” His lip was quivering, clearly holding back tears. It only served to fuel the fire inside Bertholdt, oh, how <em> badly </em> he wanted to punch this <em> Marco </em>. His mind spat the stranger’s name as if it was the most venomous word in the dictionary. What had Armin done to warrant such harm?  </p>
<p>“Please, talk to me, Armin,” Here, he gently squeezed his shoulder.</p>
<p>He watched the way Armin’s Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed. Bertholdt’s eyes moved upward when he heard Armin let out a soft sniffle. </p>
<p>“He just… He just left me there.” </p>
<p>Bertholdt’s eyes widened in outrage, his eyebrows scrunched. Capiophobia be damned, Marco just made the endangered species list. “He did <em> what? </em>” </p>
<p>Armin simply let out a small, defeated chuckle. “I was about to reply to your text when I looked up, he was just walking out the door, some people were looking – it was so mortifying… I just..!” the blond screwed his eyes shut, no doubt reliving the torturous memory.</p>
<p>Armin let out a sigh, “What if… What if this is how it’s going to be?” he questioned as he continued to stare at the floor. He was sporting one of the saddest smiles Bertholdt had ever seen. The brunet watched in patient silence, sensing his friend had more to say. </p>
<p>“What if I’m just going to be alone my whole life because no one wants me?”</p>
<p><em> ‘You? Alone? That could never be. I’ll always be by your side, Armin Arlert. Even if it’s just as a pillar of support...’ </em> Bertholdt pursed his lips at the thought before thinking of something <em> normal </em> to say. </p>
<p>“That isn’t true, Ar’, you don’t know that, you <em> can’t </em> know that.” Bertholdt scooted the blond closer to his body before moving his left hand to rest on the arm closest to him, making their positions all the more intimate. He wanted to draw him into a hug, hold him and let him cry it out if needed but at the same time he just wanted Armin to look at him. Bertholdt’s heart always felt like it was being jammed into a paper shredder whenever he saw his friend like this. It was as though every cell in his body was screaming <em> ‘Comfort him!’ </em> and Bertholdt wanted nothing more than to obey. This was Armin, one of his closest friends whom he’d come to love and care for over the years, the blond was practically his family. Armin is one person Bertholdt could count on to be with him through the good times and the bad, the <em> only </em> person Bertholdt knew in his heart of hearts that could rival, if not surpass, Annie and Reiner in terms of closeness. It wasn’t their fault, really. Whenever Bertholdt was in need, Armin just seemed to be the first to appear.</p>
<p>The brunet swallowed before speaking again, he could feel the way his ears had heated up. “You’re putting yourself out there and you’re making yourself vulnerable, no one said it would be easy but I’m still so <em> beyond </em> proud of you for trying.” He gave Armin’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as he leaned in, his head pressed gently into the bed of blond hair, pressing a soft kiss against Armin’s head before he continued. “You never know when the right guy could be right around the corner, and from the sound of it, I think I may have been responsible for bungling up your date with this Marco fellow. What if you tried to reach out to him? Maybe explain the situation and ask for a do-over!” Bertholdt finished, smiling wide and hoping his voice conveyed as much encouragement as possible.</p>
<p>Armin sniffled before softly shrugging his shoulders, “I was the one that kept responding to you, I was the one that botched things. I’m pretty sure Marco doesn’t want to see me again.” </p>
<p>Bertholdt drew his head back, the sudden loss of contact causing the blond to turn and <em> finally </em> look at him.  “Ask anyway.” Bertholdt simply replied as he looked into cerulean eyes. </p>
<p>“Huh?” </p>
<p>“Worst he could do is say no.” </p>
<p>“<em>Exactly! </em> ” Armin turned his head to stare incredulously into Bertholdt’s eyes, “What <em> if </em>he says no? What then?”</p>
<p> The man in question couldn’t help but note the intensity in Armin’s eyes, and yet, all he could do was smile in return as an idea bloomed in his head. “Then you and I can hang out! We’ll catch a movie, we’ll go to the arcade, whatever you want!” </p>
<p>Armin’s face dusted a light pink and Bertholdt soon followed after upon the realization of his proposal. He had to clarify and fast. “Just! Y’know, as a way to help get your mind off Marco and help get you back on your feet!” </p>
<p>“Oh…” Armin replied.</p>
<p>Oh? Bertholdt looked at Armin, whose blank expression betrayed nothing. The brunet didn’t think he had said anything wrong but he didn’t have time to reflect, because Armin’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he looked past Bertholdt. </p>
<p>“Is that… Is that my mug?” he simply asked.</p>
<p>Now Bertholdt’s face was truly red, he could tell. If this were a cartoon, he was pretty sure he’d be emanating steam in an exaggerated, over-the-top manner. “I can – I can explain that!” He sputtered out, now he truly <em> did </em> feel like a child being caught stealing extra cookies from the cookie jar. “You see, all we had were clean guest mugs, and you know me, that feels so <em> plain </em> , I couldn’t find mine, I <em> mean</em>, I could! I just saw yours first and so –”</p>
<p>Armin was giggling, he was grinning! As he wiped a tear from his eye he finally managed to speak. “It’s alright, really!” He stopped a bit to finish his fit of laughter. “If anything, I hope this doesn’t mean you’ll kill me if you see me with yours!” </p>
<p>Bertholdt shook his head wildly before raising his left hand flat to his side in a theatrical motion. “Nope! No sir, scout’s honor!”</p>
<p>He and Bertholdt shared a chuckle at that, before Armin exhaled softly. “Thank you, Bertholdt… Really, for everything. You can’t know how special you are to me.”</p>
<p>His eyes widened a bit, Armin’s words swirled around his head in perpetual orbit. Never had he known the blond to sound this sincere. All he could do was simply reply with a soft “Y… You’re welcome, Armin.” And that, was that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wonder what's going through Armin's head after all that, don't you??? Curiouser and curiouser... </p>
<p>Also, whoever can guess the book Bertholdt was reading, know that I'll love you forever. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As usual, a big shout out to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivianLynx/pseuds/LivianLynx">Eli,</a> a top-notch beta-reader!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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